Callie POV

This place wasn't that different than the juvenile detention hall. And least from what I could tell. The room I was in now, had light grey concrete floor, which I'm certain would be cold to touch if I was barefoot, but the walls were colored in a sand color, most likely to try and keep the room light and bright. On my right, there was a wall, that had four big windows. The bars on those windows made sure that no one can get out…or in, not that anyone has ever tried to break into a prison.

The tables and chairs were bolted to the ground with big screws. I'm sure it's a precaution, so inmates couldn't pick the furniture up and throw it to the guards, visitors, or maybe to the windows in an effort to escape.

Inside the visitation room there were 4 guards stationed. They were watching over the room like hawks. There were two guards by each of the doors that led into and out this room. They were all dressed in dark blue issued uniform shirts, black pants and boots. And every single guard had a baton, a teaser and, what I assume was, a gun that shot rubber bullets on their belts. They were heavily armed. More so than in the juvenile detention place, which is understandable, because people in here are more of a threat. It's much more easier to handle a 60 kg (122 pound) kid than a 100kg (222 pound) buff man with muscle that could beat you to death just with his bare fists. Not saying that all of the inmates here are murdered and that everyone here is capable of murder, but the few inmates that were here in the visitation room gave me chills down the spine. Covered in gang tattoos, scars, fists twice the side of hand, thrice as big as me, eyes holding a death stare and smiles, that made me fear for my life.

Unlike juvenile detention, there was no contact allowed between the visitors and the inmates. A woman had tried to hold the inmates, who I had assumed was her husband, hand over the table, but the guard was quick to break them apart. He reminded the visitor there was no contact allowed and if she will break it again, she will be escorted out and the inmate will be taken back to his cell, before her visiting time ends.

When I glanced to the doors, from which the inmates were taken in, I saw through the small window in the doors a guard escorting a prisoner in an orange jumpsuit. They stopped not far from the doors and it looked like the guard took of handcuffs. I didn't hear any chain rattling sound, but what else could the guard be doing.

Low pitched ringing sound rung out from the hallway that lead deeper to the jail, warning the guards inside the visitation room that the doors are about to be opened. My ears did not like the sound of it. I covered my left ear with my palm and frowned my face at the sound. It gave me a feeling that it was cutting inside my brain or something. The sound of the big metal doors opening, brought back a memory that happened almost 10 months ago.

I watched as the big metal doors where opened slowly. The guard, who stood inside the visitation room next to the doors, glanced back at me and watched how I walked inside. I had taken only 3 steps inside, when I flinched by the sound of the doors closing behind me.

As I looked around the room, wondering, who came to see me in here, I saw a woman stand up at the far side of the room. The woman smiled at me and raised her right hand up, giving me a small wave, when our eyes met.

What is she doing here? - I thought to myself still standing still not far from the doors. The last time the officer was here was only few days ago. Or was it a weeks? Time goes by different in here. There are no Mondays, when you can't get out of bed to go school. There are no Fridays, which you are waiting to come, because there are no weekends, when you and your family take a trip to aqua park or movies. The days blur together in one huge mess. I had no idea if it was the start of the week or the end.

She's the only one, who has visited me. I haven't seen David since the day I was locked in here. In a way I understand why. There was no reason for him to come here, not until it was closer to my release. Jude doesn't even know I'm in here, so I don't expect him to show up here suddenly. I have no idea, where my baby brother is. The last time we spoke was the day we got separated. Besides him, there is no one else, who could visit me. I highly doubt that either one of my former foster parent would visit me.

Despite the fact that I do not like her, I make my way towards the officer, who arrested. But here she was again. To be honest, I wasn't expecting her to show up at all. Especially because of how her last visit went down. Not that I wanted her here anyway.

I walked up to the table she was standing by and stopped right before the chair

"What happened to your face?" the officer asked, her eyes filled with concern once she saw me up close.

"I fell," the lie just came out of my mouth. I wasn't going to pour my heart out to her by telling her how this other inmate, Paige, has been bullying me since the first day here and this morning pummeled me in the face, cracking open my nose, giving me a bad nose bleed and black eyes. Her eyes briefly traveled down to my dark blue shirt that still had blood on it from when my nose was bleeding earlier today.

I have told few other police officers this same exact lie as well. The officers bought it every single time and never questioned my honestly. There have been four or five times, when police had been called to the foster home I had been staying at. Most of the times it was the neighbors, who had called in the disturbance. One time, the first time, it was me. I made the call to police the first time foster father had laid a hand on me. My mom had taught me to call the police if something like that ever happened. I did, but it had turned out the police officer, who had arrived was a friend of the foster father. Of course the police officer didn't believe me, when I had said my foster father had hit me. He believed his friend and told me that I can't make fake calls like that, because there could be a real emergency elsewhere. So I didn't call for help the next time or the time after that, or the time after that. I was not worth their trouble.

"That doesn't look like an injury from a fall," Officer Scott said after we both had sat down. She was not in her uniform. Without the uniform she almost looks like a decent person. Her hair was falling freely over her shoulders. There were sunglasses on top of her head.

I just shrugged my shoulders in hopes that she will leave it alone. It's not like there is anything she could do about it, nor I wanted her to do anything. Her butting in, could only cause more trouble for me.

"Did someone hurt you?" She questioned not leaving it alone

"The floor hurt me," I retorted

Officer Scott leaned a bit closer to me and spoke in a soft voice, the same kind of voice she spoke, when she was talking me down from shattering Liam's other knee into pieces "You can tell me-"

"What do you want?" I interjected before she could finish her thought "Came to gloat?"

"No," the woman leaned back, but her arms still rested on the table "I wanted to check on you."

I scoffed shaking my head "I don't need you to check on me!"

Officer Scott sat silent for couple of seconds, thinking about my last comment. She nodded her head lightly as if she accept my answer. Hopefully, that will mean she will leave and leave me alone for good. Her being here brought back a lot of memories, memories that I wanted to forget. Badly.

"You left so soon and abruptly the last time I was here, we didn't get to talk."

"About what?" I said humored by her last statement "The weather?" I gestured to the window by my right that had bars on. I get to spend two hour outside. Two miserable hour I get to walk around the yard that is limited by fences that are 10 feet (3m) tall and have barbed wire at the top it. My every move is watched by guards and security cameras. I'm walking in circles just to stretch my legs. Two miserable hour a day with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

"If you want, we can talk about weather," she answered sounding like that topic intrigued her "I think there is going to be a drought. There hasn't been a rain in a long time and it looks like there won't be any for weeks. The temperature hasn't dropped lower than..."

"You think I give a damn about the stupid weather forecast? It's the last thing on my mind right now!" I snapped at her loudly as I glared at her. My voice had been too loud, because one of the guard called me out on it and instructed me to lower my voice.

"What are you thinking about right now?" Curiously she leaned closer to me and tilted her head a little to her right. I remained mute, determent not to walk into her trap. She looked right at me, but it felt more like she was looking into my mind and reading my thoughts.

"You are obviously still furious at me and you blame me that you are here-"

"You lied to me!" I leaned towards her and said through gritted teeth in a suppressed yell, when I couldn't contain myself any longer. The anger was brewing inside me for a while now. So much for keeping mute.

"What did I lie to you about?"

"You told me that I will be okay!"

"That wasn't a lie," she disagreed with me

"I'm not okay!" I tapped my index finger to my chest expressing my anger, but then looked around this room, this place "This place is not okay!" my hand flew up and I pointed at her "And I hate you – I hate you so much, because you made me believe you, you made me think that I will be okay, but then you stabbed me in the back and brought me here!" my breathing was now elaborated and heavily as my blood was boiling in rage that I felt

"Now we're talking," she leaned back looking pleased, which made me hate her even more than I already had

The memory faded away the moment I saw Donald walking towards me, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. He's thinner than I remember him. Maybe it's the food in here, but it might as well be the demons that live inside his head that keep haunting him and do not let him sleep at nights. Similar to the demons in my head that haunted me during my time in the juvenile hall. His cheeks have fallen in. There is barely any hair on his head, he has shaved it almost clean off, but I noticed that his hairline had retrieved more. A very light stubble was visible on his face. I don't love him the way I used to anymore, but it still hurt to see him like this. There was this empty and dead look in his eyes that answered few of my questions.

Yes, he feels guilty. Yes, he is still haunted by what he did. Yes, he blames himself. Being in jail isn't the punishment for what he did. The fact that he has to live with what he did for the rest of his life is the punishment for him. Facing his living family is.

"You look so much like your mom," Donald said the second he came up to the table. A small smile appeared on my lips, because these were there first words he said to me after not spoken to 5 years. It was nice to hear that I look like my mom for it was the compliment I had only dreamed off hearing. I thought my mom was the most beautiful person in the World and hearing that I look like her, was like a dream come true. But the smile soon faded away from my face, for it would be much more nicer if she was still alive and this man in front of me hadn't been responsible for her death.

"You look..." I paused not knowing what to tell him. He didn't look great. He looked worn out, beyond sad.

Donald sat down at the other side of the table "I know," he hung his head down and looked at his hands "Not great!" As I looked to his palms, I was surprised to see that they were so clean. I had been used to seeing his hands dirty, because he used to work in a car shop and his hands were smeared with oil or something. But now they were so clean. Without any wart or cuts. And they no longer were rough from all the tools and handy work that he used to do.

"It's nice to see you," He smiled as he looked at me.

"Yeah, it's uh, nice to see you as well," I replied and then an uncomfortable and awkward silence fell between us as neither didn't know what to say. We were like two strangers. Afraid to look each other in the eye for too long and not brave enough to start a conversation.

I looked down to my clasped hands on the table as I started to slowly build the courage to talk to him. There had been so many thing I had wanted to tell and ask him. I thought about all of them on the long ride on the bus t here. But now that I saw him sitting across the table hand reach away from me…Now that I saw the way he looked, beaten down, sad and full of remorse, I just couldn't bring myself to say the things I wanted. Almost as if I'm afraid to hurt him, to make his life harder than it already was. I guess, I didn't hate him as much as I thought I would.

"How did you get here, Callie?" Donald broke the silence between us

"I took a bus," I explained

"You took a bus all the way from San Diego?" Wrinkles appeared on his forehead

I nodded my head back "I left before the Sun came up and got on the first bus to San Francisco. Then I got transferred buses and got on one that went to Lompoc."

"Where did you get the money for it?"

"I had some money saved up. For rainy days."

"And you spent it to get here-" Donald seemed stunned

"I still have some left. The bus tickets weren't that expensive." I reached for my pants pocket, where I had put the crumbled up the tickets I had bought. I straighten them out and looked at the price again. For more than a 2h drive on both, the prices seemed adequate and not that high.

"Does your…uh...foster parents know you're here?" Donald asked, when I was folding the tickets to put them back away

I averted my eyes down knowing I'm in big trouble with Amy "I didn't tell them. So I'm not sure."

"Geezes, Callie!" Donald did not sound happy about my decisions "They are probably worried about you."

"She's a cop, she might have figured where I'm by now," I said more to myself as a reassurance so I don't have to think about Amy freaking out. Looking to my right, to where I came in here, I wondered if Amy was already out there, waiting for me to give me a lecture. It wouldn't surprise me if she was. Amy was the sort of person, who would and could track me down to the other side of the planet.

"What are they like?" Donald asked after a loner pause "The family, who wants to adopt you?" he elaborated, looking curious at me

"It's not them," I corrected him "It's only...Amy," I had almost said mom, but had bit my lip "Her husband and sun died barely 3 months after they started to foster me."

"Oh," Donald gasped quietly "And she still..." he trailed off

"Yes. I was surprised as well at first, didn't quite believe it myself. Thought that she will change her mind, but she never did. She's great and I love her."

Smile spread across his lips "That's all I hoped for – for you to find family. Someone, who loves you."

"Speaking of family," I tried to move the topic along "Have you heard from Jude? Do you know where he is?"

"I know he was adopted like 3 months after your mom died, but I don't know, where he is."

"3 months?" I blurt out in shocked falling back in my chair "How can that be?"

"The couple that was fostering him really loved him," Donald explained as I got lost in my thoughts. I wasn't going to say it out loud, but I felt envious of Jude quickly. It sounded like Jude found a family it he first home he got placed with. The same people Bill took him to the same night. If I had found Amy that soon, I could have avoided all the abuse and the sexual assault. Why did I have to suffer for so long long? What did I do to deserve all of that? While I was getting abused, Jude was enjoying sleepovers and eating candy till he gets sick and enjoying his childhood. That didn't sound fair fair to me. I guess the social worker was right, he did have better chances of finding a family without me.

I shook my head trying to stop myself from feeling envious of my baby brother. He deserved a good home more than me. And I should have been happy to hear that he's safe and with people who love him.

I am happy for him, but still I felt a pinch of envy.

"Do you remember their names?" I asked, when I came out of my thoughts

"Names? Callie it was almost 5 years ago." He shifted in his seat

"How can you not remember the people, who adopted your son!" I pulled my hands in fist, starting to get angry at Donald for being so useless

"I was a bad place at that time Callie. When I was told that he was safe and cared for, that was all that I needed to know to sign the papers. I wanted him to find a family, because I know I ruined ours."

"Didn't you meet them?"

"I met one of them. But I barely remember her," Dad scratched his head

"Describe her! Anything you remember about her!" I requested

"She was tall, slim. Straight, black hair. She seemed like the person, who could be too good for this world. Too sweet and too kind."

"If you met her you must remember her name..." I pressed on, desperate to get any kind of lead on Jude's whereabouts

"Her name I think started with letter L. Lilly or Laura...or- " His eyes looked upwards as he tried to remember. I sat patiently waiting for him to remember.

"5 minutes till visitation is over!" A guard announced. I turned to him surprised, because I had just gotten here. Not 10 minutes ago. "Visitation ends at 1:45PM! No exceptions! Wrap it up!" The guard added as he walking between the tables, making sure everyone heard it

I turned back to Donald and changed the topic to the one, why I had traveled all the way down here "I know you are not my biological father," He hung his head down avoiding my look "Why didn't you and mom tell me?" I questioned further wanting to know the reason behind why they hid that information from me

"We wanted to," Donald covered his mouth with his hand briefly and continued to speak in his slow, calm and quiet manner "But...by the time that you were old enough to understand, we were a family. I was the one who changed your dippers, read you bedtime stories, you used to fall asleep on my chest. I was there, when you took your first steps and on your first day of school. I taught you how to ride a bike and swim. For all intents and purposes, I was your father. Not Robert Quinn. Your mom didn't even get child support from him. That's the kind of person he was. He might be rich and famous, but he's a weak man."

"Have you met him?"

"No. Mom told me, who he was, but she didn't speak much about him," Donald explained

"Does he know about me?" This was the million dollar question. I held the breath as I waited for an answer.

"He does," that wasn't the answer I had expected to hear

I breathed out slowly as I lowered my eyes to the table. All kind of thoughts and questions ran through my mind. If he knew about me, why hadn't he looked for me in after mom died? He has another daughter, so it wasn't that he hated or didn't want kids. If he knew, why did mom tell me about him? Was I the problem? Was I not good enough for him? Was it because of my mom? Maybe she kept him away from me, because she wanted to keep me to herself. I have learned that a lot of people can be abusive. What if mom ran and took me along, because he was being abusive to protect me from him?

I must have been too deep in my thought, because the next thing I heard was the guard announcement as he was walking around the room "One minute left. Wrap it up, everyone! Visitors stay seated. Inmates, form a line!"

Donald leaned a bit closer to me and slowly moved his hands over the table to mine, before one of the guard called out "No contact is allowed, inmate!" Donald and I both looked to the guard by the doors. The guard glared back at Donald, almost like he was waiting for Donald to break the rules so he could pull him away and make him pay for not being obedient.

Donald pulled his hands back to himself almost like he new better than to anger the guards "I can't put in words how truly sorry I am for what happened, Callie!" He looked and sounded full of remorse and his apology did seem genuine.

looked to his sad eyes "I know you expect me to forgive you, but I can't! Not right now at least. I'm still angry, I'm still mad at you," Donald tilted his head down as he acknowledged what I was telling me "You ruined our family," I added quietly

"I know, I know…." he mumbled to himself "I understand why you can't," When his eyes met mine, I was surprised to see glimmer of hope in them "Maybe one day?"

"Maybe," I agreed, thinking that one day I will be ready to forgive him. Donald smiled weakly at my answer as he stood up.

I still haven't forgiven myself for not saying goodnight and not telling her I love her the night she died. Being thrown into foster care right after, there was no time for me to really grieve, to deal with it, to cry. I was hoping that one day I will forgive myself and will be able to forgive him as well.

"I'm sorry, Callie," He said looking back at me, when he stood in the line "I love you, Callie."

I couldn't bring myself to say it back, so I just watched him walk away along with the rest of the inmates. When the doors closed after the inmates all left, I let out a deep breath. I thought I would start regretting not saying it back, but I didn't. Wondering if that made me a bad person, I remained sitting and watched the doors, where Donald had walked out. When I was the only one left in the room, I grabbed my backpack from my lap, threw it over my shoulder and followed the other visitors out of the room.

The people before me scattered: some went to the bathroom, some went straight to the exit, some met family members in the front hall, who had come with them, some made a call as soon as they got their smartphones back.

Looking around the room, I saw how, across the room, Amy leaned off the wall uncrossing her arms from her chest. I gulped as I watched her approach me. I dipped my head down, when mom stopped in front of me. This must be my biggest screw up up to date.

"Did you get the answers you came looking for?"

Timidly, I looked to her eyes, but could not hold the eye contact as I really felt bad for what I had done. I was so scared of what she will say, that my voice cracked in the middle of the one word answer I gave her "So—some."

"That's good at least," She reached out to me and tucked some loose hair behind my ear "Now," she rested her palm on my cheek and leaned down a bit, so that our eyes would be in the same height and our faces just few inches apart "If you ever run away from home like that ever again, I will handcuff you to hand and not let you out of my sight for months! Is that clear?" her voice was stern, her eyes held a dead serious stare and I knew, that she meant what she said and that I cannot argue with her

I nodded back instantly and vigorously, wanting to let her to know that I understand completely.

"I was worried sick about you, when I didn't find you," Amy said with more softer voice and her hard features eased up as well "I love you to pieces and if something had happened to you, on the way to here, I would have never forgiven myself," I felt her thumb brush up against my cheek tenderly

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I just..." I tilted my head down not able to hold her stare "I just had to talk to him."

"You could have talked to me and we could have driven here together!"

"I know, but...but I couldn't..." I stuttered keeping my eyes down "I just...I needed to do this on my own. I know you are mad and I don't blame you..."

"Never again!" Amy pulled me in a hug and held me tightly to her body

"You are grounded indefinitely, you won't get any pocket money for two weeks and no computer for two weeks as well!" She informed me while hugging me

I furrowed my brows,leaned out of her hug and looked up to her and wondered "Indefinitely?" that was the part that terrified and worried me the most. It sounded like it had no end.

"Yes," she stated reaching for my backpack and took it off my shoulder. Amy threw the bag over her shoulder. She rested her right hand on my back before we took off walking towards the exit.

I glanced to Amy by my left "How long will that be?"

"That depends on you," Amy replied in a mysterious way as she took her hand off my back only to open the doors for me "You need to gain my trust back!"

I accepted the consequences to my actions "That's…fair, I guess..." I said with a sigh as I took a step over the doorstep

There was more than 4 hour drive in front of us. I was well aware that Amy will want to know what I found out and what we talked about, and what I felt seeing Donald after so much time. But there was one thing that I will keep to myself. At least for now, because I didn't know how to tell her about Jude. Telling her that I had a baby brother felt like news that were long overdue. In my defense, no time seemed right, no time had ever seemed right. But I couldn't tell her today, because we still had the Robert Quinn thing on our minds. After that is done - one day.

One thing at a time.